Feel Me, Seal Me
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Twoshot. The one thing tying down Al's soul is the blood seal on his back. It's his one connection to reality, the medium that binds soul, blood, and iron. So when Ed touches the seal...he touches the soul.
1. Feel My Soul

**Author's Note: Anyone who knows my writing knows that possibly my favorite part in the whole entire series is the part where Al starts to doubt his memories. I just **_**love**_** the angst and conflict that arises from this blow to the very core of the brothers' relationship. (Especially because it leads to some of the sweetest reconciliation **_**ever.**_**) I've probably done like five different re-imaginings of this scene by now, but I'm always game to make another one. This version is specifically for the manga, but it ends up differently (because I think the resolution in the manga was way too quick and easy).**

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><p><em>Take away everything<br>Burn away all of me  
>And as I break, I believe<br>You will come to rescue_

_- "Under My Skin" by Trading Yesterday_

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><p><em>For Princess<em>

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><p>The air was tense between them, and it had been ever since he had woken up in the hospital. Edward tried not to let it get to him, tried not to read too much into it, but it was hard. He was so used to Alphonse comforting him, or discussing their most recent findings, or just sitting there and <em>chatting<em> with him, his quiet voice assuring him that even though he'd messed up and his side was aching through the pain meds and they were no closer to their goal...everything was _okay. _Now, Alphonse said nothing unless spoken to, and even then it was in a low, heartless voice so unlike his usual cheerful tones.

And it was his fault, and he knew it, and it only made things worse. It was _because_ he'd messed up, _because_ he was hurt, _because _they'd failed once again. So Edward fell back on his tried-and-true coping mechanism, the one that had gotten him this far: He chewed the dry roll on his breakfast tray and complained loudly to his brother.

"Aw, what's the deal with milk anyway? It's not like I'm gonna _die_ by not drinking it, right?" He swallowed and opened his mouth for another bite. "You're lucky, Al – you got tall without even drinking mil-"

"I never asked for this body, okay?"

Edward froze in shock, bread halfway to his mouth, his brother's voice ringing in his ears as Alphonse surged to his feet, knocking his little stool over. Dimly realizing that Winry had just come in and looked as shocked as he felt, Edward tried to look up at Al. But he couldn't. He could sense the suit of armor towering over him, but he couldn't bear to even peek through the bangs that blocked out his peripheral vision. He put the bread back on his plate and mumbled, "Yeah...I know. Sorry."

But Alphonse wasn't satisfied. "Sorry? _Sorry?_ Is that all you have to say? What about that thing you tried to talk to me about before? That you said you were too scared to talk to me about? Why don't you tell me about that, _Brother?_"

Edward's heart halted in its tracks, then started pounding painfully. He _knew._ He knew the question that had burned in the back of Edward's mind all these years, the one thing he could never bear to put into words. The one thing that he, the Full Metal Alchemist, was absolutely _terrified_ of.

He barely heard Winry asking what was going on. All he could hear was the accusation, the anger, in Alphonse's voice. Had he been putting on a facade all this time? Had he realized something, after fighting someone just like him? Had he decided that Edward was never going to get him his heart's desire, and now there was no use pretending anymore?

"I know the truth now," Alphonse continued ruthlessly. "You can't hide it from me any longer. You were trying to tell me that you'd created my memories and personality, weren't you? That I'm a fake! That Alphonse Elric never existed!"

He was screaming now, and Edward stared up at him in horror. _This_ was what Alphonse thought of him? This was why he'd been sitting sullenly in the corner, hardly acting concerned or even _interested_ when Edward was in pain? Alphonse didn't care about him anymore. For the first time he could remember, Edward only felt cold rage burning towards him out of those empty eye holes.

"That's not true!" Winry broke in, stepping closer. "You know that's not true! You grew up with us... What Ed wanted to say was-"

"Shut up!" Alphonse screamed, swiping at her and making her jump back into the doorway. "You think I'm stupid enough to buy that? You've been lying to me all this time! You, Granny Pinako...and _Edward._" He turned his gaze back on Edward – a red gaze, filled with hate.

Something broke inside him when he heard Alphonse use his name. He slammed his fists onto his little table, the pain in his left hand barely even registering next to the agony he felt at that word. He understood what Alphonse was implying – he was no longer worthy of being a brother.

But slowly, Edward relaxed, his shoulders slumping and his fists unclenching. Alphonse was right, of course; he always was. What kind of a brother was he, anyway? Four years, and they were just as broken as they had been at the beginning. He was supposed to protect his baby brother, but he'd nearly gotten them both killed. Edward's lips twisted into a smile like his heart was twisting inside him. "Is that all you've got to say?"

Winry gasped from the doorway, looking confused and frustrated, and even Alphonse seemed taken aback.

Edward's smile soured and he slowly got to his feet, feeling like an old man. "Just say it, Al. Say you hate me. I won't stop you."

Winry was crying. She, at least, understood what he was getting at. She was the one who had listened to him as he cried weakly in bed, hoarsely whispering, _I bet he hates me..._ And he'd been right all this time.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He took two steps forward, clapped his hands, and slammed them onto Alphonse's waist before anyone could do anything to stop him. Winry screamed into her hands as Alphonse's body cleanly broke in two. His legs flew one way and his torso another, crashing against opposite walls. "What are you _doing?_" Winry yelled as Alphonse let out a startled cry.

But Edward didn't say anything, clapping again and breaking off Alphonse's arms. He'd cut them cleanly, so they could easily be transmuted back together again, but Alphonse couldn't move either. Grimly, Edward heaved Alphonse to an upright position against the wall and knelt in front of him, unable to look in his eyes again.

It took a moment or two to catch his breath again; he could tell he still wasn't up to his full strength yet. As soon as he could, he said, "I'm sorry. But I had to make you listen." He bit his lip, and slowly raised his eyes to Alphonse's impassive face. "You're my little brother, Alphonse Elric, born in 1900. You like cats, you like chocolate, and you're afraid of wasps. We used to race each other home from the store, or we'd sit on the hill and watch the trains go by. You always said you were going to be a great alchemist someday and make everyone in the world smile like Mom did."

As he spoke, he slowly unbuckled the chestplate and set it aside. "How do I know all that? It's not because I made it up myself. I've spent my whole _life_ with you, Al. I know you too well to make a replica of you. If I did, it wouldn't do justice to you at all, and I'd just end up unsatisfied."

"Oh yeah?" Alphonse said, but the force had left his voice. "Prove it."

Edward smiled sadly and rubbed the top of the helmet in the way Alphonse had always loved best, even though he couldn't feel it now. Then Edward ducked into the dark recess of Alphonse's chest, craning his head up to look at the blood seal he'd painted onto the metal years ago. It was the only thing keeping Alphonse in this world, the only thing tying his soul down.

Slowly, being extremely careful not to smudge the old, dried blood, Edward placed a single finger of his left hand on the outer lines of the circle. Alphonse immediately gasped, convincing Edward of his hunch: He could feel it. Carefully, Edward drew even closer so his breath would wash over the seal too. "Is this fake?" he whispered. "Because all I can feel is my little brother."

"I...I feel...I f-_feel!_" Alphonse was gasping as if he had breath to run short. "I'm...warm... It's...I...when...Brother. Brother... _Brother..._"

He sounded like he was crying, and for a moment Edward thought he could actually feel the tears dripping down onto the back of his hand. Then he realized they were his own. He carefully pulled his finger away again and crawled back out of his little brother's body, dragging his sleeve across his eyes. He smiled up at Alphonse again, grinning wider and wider as he saw the look in those glowing red eyes. Trust, gratitude, and love.

Just as Edward was reaching for the chestplate, Winry charged over to him, her face drenched with tears, and pinned him with a hug so fierce he was sure his wounds had reopened. "Wha-" he choked out, but then Winry let him go and hugged Alphonse just as fiercely, even though his hard edges had to be much more painful to clasp like that.

"You two are the stupidest people I've ever met!" Winry shrieked, running out of the room before either of them could figure out what had happened.

Once Edward had gingerly checked his bandages to make sure he wasn't bleeding through, he shared a quizzical look with his brother, then shrugged and muttered, "Girls."

"Well...it _was_ kind of stupid. Thinking that I hated you."

"No, it was stupid that you thought I'd created you. How would that even _work?_"

"Let's not start fighting again!"

"Who said we're fighting? We're not fighting!"

"Yes we are!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are too!"

"Are not- Hey!"

The nurse poked her head in to see what all the commotion was, and stood stunned in the doorway. Metal limbs lay all across the floor, and Edward was laughing while clutching his side, chiming in with the laughter echoing from the suit of armor in the corner. Edward was crying, but she couldn't be sure if it was the pain or the laughter. Maybe some of both.


	2. Seal My Soul

**Author's Note: I realized, as I was writing the previous chapter, that this was an excellent chance to write a scene I've tossed around in my head for over a year now, but never was able to find enough interesting about it to warrant its own fic. To completely understand this, you'd have to read my fic "Nothing But Everything," which includes my animeverse postseries AU ideas about what becomes of Ed and Al. The cover art is a fanart of this chapter that can be found here: levi-khane dot deviantart dot com / art / Seal-My-Soul-276950601  
><strong>

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><p><em>Under my skin, under these scars<br>Take me again, and tear me apart  
>'Cause I wanna see everything you are<br>Till all that's left is not myself_

_- "Under My Skin" by Trading Yesterday_

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><p>A tense silence settled over the room once Edward had drawn the curtains over the window and switched on the light. They'd been planning this day for weeks, but now that the time had come Edward felt just the same as he had the first time Alphonse had suggested it.<p>

He checked and re-checked his supplies, trying to stave off the moment when they would have to begin. He made sure the soapy water was warm, lit the candle, and sterilized the needles again. There was no way he was going to let his little brother get infected. Then he pulled on his gloves, took a deep breath, and looked up to find Alphonse watching him.

Alphonse looked maddeningly calm. The trust in his eyes as he met his brother's gaze was too much to bear; Edward looked away and nodded. He busied himself with the needles again, loading them up with black ink while Alphonse pulled off his shirt and lay on his stomach on his bed, resting his head on his arms.

The first part was easy, so Edward managed to relax as he washed off Alphonse's upper back. It reminded him of the many times he had offered this service to his little brother when he'd been a suit of armor. Those metal arms were nowhere near as flexible as real, flesh-and-blood ones, so there was a spot on his back he could never quite reach. Edward had liked scrubbing Alphonse's back; it was one of the few things he could do for him. As if a sponge bath could somehow make up for the mistake that had landed him in that position in the first place.

Alphonse's eyes were closed, and the muscles in his back were relaxed. Edward was tempted to leave it like this, to just let Alphonse sleep, but then Alphonse cracked an eye open to see what was keeping him. Reluctantly, Edward picked up a needle and bent over the space they'd picked out. The space between the shoulder blades was smooth and mostly flat, and over the years Alphonse had filled out enough that his vertebrae didn't stick out like they had in the beginning. It was the perfect spot for a small circle.

The first prick of the skin was the worst. As much as Alphonse was trying to keep still, he still jerked slightly at the touch of the needle, and that made Edward's gut clench. But once he'd started, he had to continue, had to pay attention to the curve of the line he was drawing. He tried to focus on what he was doing, but he couldn't keep from thinking about how it must hurt. Alphonse would be able to feel each individual pinprick, till the pain molded together into a never-ending throb.

For some reason, he kept on remembering that first month after getting Alphonse's body back, and how overjoyed he'd been at every new sensation. Alphonse would reach out and take Edward's hand, slowly clasp and unclasp it, then pull it up to his face and run his knuckles along his cheek. He remembered the leg massage the doctor had taught him to help restore his circulation, and he remembered brushing Alphonse's long, ratty hair. Every time he would feel something soft or warm or gentle, Alphonse would smile – a blissful smile where he would tip back his head and close his eyes.

His eyes were closed now, and he wasn't complaining, but Edward knew what the tightness around his mouth meant. It reminded him of the time Alphonse had sprained his ankle, just four months after getting his body back. He'd limped through the door, clutching his paper bag of bruised apples, not even wincing when he put his weight on his injured ankle. But his jaw was clenched and his lips were pressed tightly together. He looked like that now.

Edward's fingers slipped on the needle, and it jabbed farther into the skin than he'd intended. Alphonse let out an involuntary gasp, but as soon as Edward started apologizing, he just clenched his teeth again and said, "Keep going." Biting his lip, Edward did as he was told.

Thankfully, this was just a simple circle, a shorthand for the master circle Alphonse had composed for the State Alchemy Exam. In fact, it looked similar to the blood seal that was still faintly visible on the old suit of armor in Winry's basement. That made sense, since that seal had tied Alphonse's soul to the armor and this circle would keep his soul grounded in his body when he siphoned it off into different containers. There was the same basic star shape, but instead of the squiggle in the center there was a sun, the alchemic symbol for the soul. The lines were also more rounded, opening a wider variety of possibilities for how it could be used due to the way they intersected with the other lines.

Edward filled his head with all the minutiae of the circle, letting the alchemist in him take over. It was so much easier to admire the subtle genius of this circle – so much more efficient and reliable than the one he'd made himself, gleaned from the Truth – than to dwell on how the skin was beginning to swell up. It would soon heal, but it would be tender in the meantime.

But finally, it was done. The circle jumped starkly out at him against Alphonse's pale skin. It was no bigger than the blood seal. It was even in roughly the same place. Tentatively, Edward reached out a finger and pressed it against the outer circle. He didn't activate it, but he still felt a tingle when he touched the skin. It was probably just his imagination, but he felt as though he was touching Alphonse's soul.

Alphonse was looking at him over his shoulder, and Edward started to pull his hand away, realizing that it probably hurt. But Alphonse grabbed his sleeve and held him down, so Edward stayed where he was. They looked at each other for a moment or two – Edward touching a finger to Alphonse's back, Alphonse lightly clasping Edward's arm.

With a smile, Alphonse closed his eyes and relaxed again. "Thank you."


End file.
